


THE BOY IN THE MIRROR SHARD

by les_lenne



Category: Tokyo Babylon, X/1999
Genre: Child Abuse, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Mindfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/les_lenne/pseuds/les_lenne





	THE BOY IN THE MIRROR SHARD

The first time, the boy shrieks. He screams until his lungs give up and falter. His mouth hangs open still, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. He is two years old and all alone in this room. He sees himself in the mirror in front of him, but he is unable to recognize the image as himself. All he knows is that the little boy in front of him is screaming soundlessly at him. That the little boy is bleeding from his left arm. It does not cross his mind to look down at himself for the longest time.  
His jaw hurts; he has no concept of time yet, but it feels like an eternity. There is still no one but him and the boy in the mirror.  
Still weeping, he drops down to his knees. Snot fills his mouth and he waves his arms around, trying to catch something to hold on to. He finds nothing at all. There is nothing in this room but him and the boy in the mirror.  
His head becomes heavy and falls, eventually. Blood is running down his left arm. He raises his hand, but shies away from touching the wound.

Starts weeping again.

*

He is tired. The room is dark. The boy is only a dark shape. The floor to his feet is colored in red. He remembers it wasn't always like this. He looks up, slowly, knowing what to expect by now.  
A bright light shines at him from behind. It'd blind him if he turned around, so he keeps his eyes fixed on the other boy. His eyes are black and his bottom lip broken. He is naked and the bruises he received last time they met are dark purple shadows on his snow-white skin.  
He, too, is naked. His hands fall down to his sides, and the boy in the mirror mimics him.

"Don't do that, silly," he tells the boy in the mirror.

The boy speaks quietly with him, then smiles.

He likes the boy's smiles. They are soft and warm.

He lies down on the floor, pulling his knees up to his body, and touches the cold surface of the mirror. They cannot hold hands, but this will do for the coming night; it is dark again.

*

Older now, he starts to wonder.

He extends his bare arm and watches as a knife is drawn over his skin, opening it up. Watches the blood dribble down the boy's arm. The boy does not make a sound.

He looks back at his own arm, and there is blood.

Searches for the eyes of the other, golden and sweet.

The boy in the mirror is crying.

He takes a step forward and presses a kiss to the boy's forehead, and only meets the pane of the mirror.

"Shh," he whispers, "don't cry."

*

"I met mother. She is very beautiful," he tells the boy in the mirror.

The boy listens to him, smiling all the while. He always smiles nowadays. Hitting him, cutting him, breaking his bones. It doesn't matter. He smiles for the boy in the mirror and the boy smiles back. It's such a pretty smile. It's important to protect the boy, he decides, and he does all he can.

So he smiles.


End file.
